


Don't Wanna Fall In Love

by orphan_account



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Dancer Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Enemies to Lovers, Jeon Jungkook & Min Yoongi | Suga are Roommates, M/M, Producer Min Yoongi | Suga, Sexual Tension, Underground Rapper Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Underground Rapper Min Yoongi | Suga, asjjjj this is my first ship fic, but soon fluff, let me know !! if u want more, ughhh idk about smut, when i say enemies to lovers i mean one sided enemies ..., yo this has defo been done before but
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Min Yoongi is a struggling music producer, hardly able to pay bills and survive, he relies on the money from underground rap battles to get by. His reputation is unfaltered until new and fresh rapper J-Hope enters the scene.Yoongi is threatened but something else draws him to his rival. Something which could ruin him completely, in the best way.also known as Yoongi has feelings for J-Hope but is instead rude af! But it's fluffy so its okay y  y y





	1. Chapter 1

Yoongi can not think about anything but the tight feeling in his stomach. The knot which fills him with dread. Right now he’s lost. He’s away from where he’s standing. He’s only aware of the darkness surrounding him followed by the sweat which runs down the back of his neck, caught and soaked in by the tie of the bandana he wears across his forehead. Next it’s the adrenaline which moves in a wave from his white sneakers up his body. His tongue moves to slick his lips with saliva as he waits. Waits for the backing track to quick in, waits for the lights to flash into life. He can barely make out the guy stood in front of him but he can tell he’s taller, stockier. The guy could floor him in a fist fight. Yoongi rolls his head across his shoulders, ironing out the nerves he feels. The first beat comes in and he feels it vibrate, the lights kicking in as he hears the third beat. A new wave kicks in as he steps forward, microphone clutched in his hand.

Right now, to himself, he is only the words which leave his mouth. Spewing out fast, the words leaving in a rate that's almost superhuman. The rap is accented, his voice perking occasionally in emphasis.

“A to the G to the U to the STD…” Yoongi raps, the intensity making his opponent flinch with the chorus of his rap. The crowd roars harder, arms flailing, intoxicated by the fire which exits him.

Here, is where Yoongi succeeds. He forgets about his life outside of the stage. Forgets about the countless bills, the multiple voicemails from his mother and the feeling he has inside of himself. The feeling he’s letting them all down. Outside of here he’s a disappointment. He’s a failure. But when the crowd goes wild and the opponent backs down, he’s triumphant.

He’s a winner.

 

Yoongi stands outside in the fresh air. Sipping on a redbull and absentmindedly scrolling with his thumb through his twitter feed and once replying to a message from his roommate, Jungkook. He’s out the back and away from all the fuss off the crowds. He can still hear the bustle inside and smirks remembering the frenzy he caused. So he’d won but was anybody surprised? Only Yoongi. Sure he was good at rapping but what really got him up in the morning was producing music. Orchestrating a whole song underneath his fingertips. Everything silent but the sounds coming from his headphones. Winning these rap battles was an amazing feeling for him and he didn’t want to be ungrateful but it just got him by. All he wanted was to be known as Min Yoongi for the music he produced, not just known in the Seoul underground as Agust D.

He was alone outside bar a guy smoking, puffing out every few moments. Yoongi didn’t recognise him but didn’t pay him any mind as he scrolled. Until he felt a presence looming over him.

“You were f**king sick tonight man,” the guy slurred, puffing out more smoke so it almost obscured his features. Yoongi awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before smiling back at the man. “Yeah, thanks, it means a lot,” he replied, half smiling at him. He didn’t want to seem rude, he just wasn’t good at receiving compliments, which always made him across as being cold to others. Jungkook, his roommate, always told him off that.

“Hyung. You need to start applying yourself more. People will actually start believing you’re a cold bitc-” he would begin, words faltering when he would see the glare he’d receive from his elder. Yoongi was just an introvert, he liked his own thoughts, he liked to sleep and he knew from experience that it wasn’t productive to do things he didn’t want to do. Perhaps that made him across as an asshole but it worked. He got on with it.

“I’m just saying, cause I like you man but you need to be careful,” the guy slurred again, leaning onto a railing which supported the steps which lead from the underground clubs door. “Sorry?” Yoongi staggered. The guy puffed again for the last time before stubbing out the cigarette with his shoe. “So there’s a new rapper from Gwangju taking over some other clubs in Seoul. Spits madness man... just be careful,” he says, flipping his grey hoodie over his head.

“...Sure, know his name?” Yoongi replies, he’s almost entertaining the obviously wasted guy but still he feels a slight panic. No harm in checking him out he thinks. “Uhhh, think its something L-Hope, J-Hope? Something Hope man, I don’t know,” the guy is backing out of the clubs alley as he speaks. Raising his thumb in a friendly manner he disappeared into the street front, shouting a, “catch ya soon,” as he left.

Yoongi pretends to be unfaltered by his words, his tongue stabbing the inside of his left cheek as his mind wandered back to his words. You need to be careful. It echoed in his head like a broken record. His thumbs worked before his brain could even comprehend what he was doing.

J-H-O-P-E he typed into the Twitter search bar, finding his profile immediately.

 

He clicked on the link in his bio, holding his phone close to his ear as the music kicked in. The music was electric, bold but surrounded by a bouncy beat. His rap was flawless, raspy and full of rhythm. His voice drifts between the lines of rapping and singing, his pitch vacillating up and down. When it’s done, Yoongi closes his phone.

Then he crosses his arms over himself in frustration. He was going to get his cash and get a cab out of here. ASAP. He couldn’t stand feeling like this in public.

He already felt defeated.

 

Yoongi woke up groggily the next morning to the sound of what can only be described as pure mania or as Yoongi preferred to call it, Jungkook playing Overwatch. Jungkook was cursing loudly in the front room, Yoongi following the sound.

 

“You’re so lucky I slept long enough or I would of kicked you out by now,” snapped Yoongi, shocking Jungkook with his sudden appearance. In response he dropped the controller, picking it back up and responding with a, “s-sorry hyung”. Yoongi also heard a frightened yelp from beside Jungkook, which meant Jungkook was also accompanied by his friend and almost shadow, Taehyung. “Didn’t you see there, hi Taehyung. Control this brat will you,” Yoongi muttered. Yoongi wasn’t bothered by Taehyung being there, even though he was in a battered shirt and basketball shorts, his blonde bleached hair in fifty different directions. Taehyung practically lived here anyway. Tae laughed gruffly, poking at the side of Jungkook’s head as he concentrated.

 

Yoongi marched into the kitchen, flicking the coffee machine on and into action. “How did it go last night,” he heard Jungkook call from the living room, the ongoing Overwatch game still humming in the background. “As usual,” Yoongi replied, pouring the just made coffee into a mug before roaming back to the living room.

 

He sat down on the couch behind where the two younger boys were lying, playing on the floor. He didn’t even notice Taehyung staring at him wistfully until he spoke. “Then why do you look so… down hyung?” Tae questioned, a soft pout following his questions. Jungkook turned around, having lost the game, his head tilting.

 

“Well uhhh…” He faltered in explaining, stirring his coffee slowly, scrunching his nose as he turns over his thoughts in his head. “Some guy came over to me after I finished,” he watched Jungkook tense slightly at that, although younger, Jungkook was tougher. “No, no it isn’t because of him. Well I mean I guess... he told me about a new underground rapper in Seoul. Said he was good,” Yoongi sighed. Both of the boys looked confused for a second until Yoongi opened his mouth again. “I checked him out and he’s good- really good. Good enough to beat me”.

 

Jungkook and Taehyung began to talk over each other, reassuring Yoongi he was just overthinking and he was amazing, so skilled, he shouldn’t worry. To which he responds with grateful words. Taehyung reaches over to pay Yoongi’s hand finally. Yoongi nods slowly towards them, offering a silent smile as a thank you. Maybe they’re right, he thinks. But the voice, right in the back of his head, almost a ghost whispers to him. _But maybe they’re not._

  
  
  


The next few rap battles go as planned. At first, Yoongi is apprehensive to step into the clubs, scared to check the list of other rappers competing incase he sees the name he's dreading. Although the Seoul circuit is infamous, its small, and he’s sure to come across him some time soon.

 

When the name isn’t there, he breathes a sigh of relief. His nerves completely leave him and he floors it again, collecting the prize money which pay for his rent and survival and feeling himself again.

 

That was until tonight. Yoongi was late.

 

He rushed into the club, barked at by the owner SupremeBoi on his tardiness to which Yoongi bowed in apology. Entering the backstage of the club, he begins to get ready, clearing his throat with gulps of water and tying his bandana on around his head. Mostly he avoids the other rappers, not out of feeling superior but mostly because his shyness stopped him from really interacting. He’ll say hello, offer niceties but usually he likes to sit at the back and plug in his earphones. A loud group and stood near the stage doors, all cohering around one guy who seems to be the centre of attention.

The centre of attention dances around stupidly, wearing red tinted sunglasses, a long purple velvet coat, to which he stood out even more so in a room filled of Supreme and streetwear. His loud, manic laugh boomed across the room. Infectious.

 

Yoongi wondered who he was. Then it settled inside of him, in the pit of his stomach he knew. And it was confirmed when one of the rappers, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted.

 

**“J-HOPPPPEEE.”**

 

The others laughed.

 

Yoongi couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t also take his eyes of him, his bright smile seeming to light up the room. Like sunshine. He was everything Yoongi wasn’t. Bright, loud, endearing, grabbing everyone's attentions and keeping it. Had Yoongi been staring? Course he had. The crowd had disbanded when they heard the club suddenly become alive as the MC for the evening got on stage. Yoongi was in such a trance he didn’t even notice the figure getting closer.

 

“Hey, I’m a big fan. I’m J-Hope,” he spoke. His voice was softer now, but still dripping with honey, sweet and full of light. If voices could be colours, he was yellow, Yoongi thought to himself. Up close, Yoongi could further admire his features. He had beautiful, squishable yet high firm cheeks. A sculpted nose. Kind eyes.

 

_So he’s got to be handsome as well???_ Yoongi’s brain practically screamed. If J-Hope wasn’t sure to beat his ass in a rap battle, Yoongi might of actually had a crush on him.

 

Finally Yoongi pulled himself out his thoughts, glancing at J-Hope.

 

“I know,” he muttered coldly, before turning away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w - mention of dysfunctional families / broken family units. slight inference to depression. please proceed with caution when reading the beginning of this chapter.

Yoongi hadn’t had to delve deep down inside of himself on stage for a long time until tonight. Longer than he could even recall. All he could remember was that feeling of being a deer in headlights. Then the feeling of his fingers pulsing and breaths skipping when the panic settled in.

Then it would kick in. The pounding of the beat beginning, the bass vibrating through his bones like it existed inside of him. There’s a strange part of him which believes it does, that the music is inside of him. For it tunes him out, takes over him, transports him. Deafens out the panic he felt and there he is, accelerating to the finish line. An escape.

Growing up he’d always felt like music was a safety blanket. When he was 13 and his parents would argue into the night he’d use it to drown it out, drown himself in something else. He found 2pac then, becoming obsessed with rap from that point. At 16, his parents’ divorce was finalised. By then he was able to pour his frustrations into his own music. In between weekends at his fathers and weekdays at his mother’s he was able to create and hone his talents. At 18, he was alone. He lived with his mother full time in Daegu, she was hardly home, flying out to exotic cities for business. The feeling of being alone swallowed him whole. Sometimes he found himself staring at the walls for hours. But he never shut out music. When he made music, he felt whole again.

He moved to Seoul at 21, working day jobs day and night to get himself enough money. He’d barely been able to afford his first apartment, if you could call it that. It was just a bed, a stove, a broken shower and a toilet. But he was free. Free from home. With his music and his dreams. Before long he realised he had to go back to the grind, he couldn’t live on ramen forever he told himself. Working the jobs nobody wanted in the worst hours of the night is where he found Jungkook, working the same graveyard shift as himself.

“So, I’m looking for a roommate,” Jungkook said one night, flashing Yoongi a shy bunny smile. Jungkook came to Seoul at the young age of 19, when Yoongi had lived there for two years. They got on even though they’re different because like Yoongi, Jungkook had a dream. He wanted to be a cinematographer, an established one. So, he moved to Seoul to be closer to what he said and believed was “the action”.

Yoongi moved in two weeks later and really the rest was history. It was even Jungkook who offered that Yoongi entered the underground rap scene, knowing his secondary passion for it. “You can’t just flip burgers all our lives Hyung,” Jungkook whined as they book sat in their living room a month after moving in together. Yoongi took a lot of persuading but it didn’t take long for Jungkook, his perpetual soft spot, to break him.

He had two conditions. One, Jungkook couldn’t attend, ever. Second, Jungkook had to submit at least one demo tape of his work to an agency every month. Just one. So, it began their routine, especially made successful by Yoongi's gift. 

 

So that's what lead him to the underground scene. He started small, one night a week he'd travel out to the backstreets of Seoul, searching for venues in Twitter feeds and Facebook pages. Gaining access to spots on the setlist from promised favours until the venues were asking for him. Agust D was beginning to be known in Seoul. A moniker created from the name of his first ever music project, Suga backwards and DT, Daegu Town where he'd grown up. People were asking for him. They wanted him. He gave people something different, he was raw, he was new. He opened up a bit of himself to the crowd and sold it with his flow. They were in the palms of his hands. But he'd knew it wouldn't last long. Like right now. 

 

 

It wasn’t even a matter of coincidence that it ended up being Yoongi and J-Hope in the final round. Every qualifier round felt like a harder battle than ever to Yoongi, the nerves engulfing him. Although terrified and mesmerised by J-Hope, he wondered inside whether he could possibly do it. When J-Hope came up in the third battle of the night, Yoongi stood closer to the stage door taking in the rap outside.

 

He was insane. Yoongi kind of wished he had the guts to go outside and join the other rappers and watch him. Feel the electricity in the crowd when J-Hope powered out his rap. His words snapped and cracked like a whip, his voice sliding in pitch and passion. Energy igniting his tone. It was unique. 

Yoongi performed his usual routine. Nothing could change that. He gulped a bottle of crisp water, rolled his shoulders and cracked his limbs. It wasn’t enough to drown out the nagging in his head or the sick feeling in his stomach, but it was enough to make him feel like he could stand up and walk out there when his name was called. He rounded the back of club and went through the door onto the stage. It was black, and his eyes swam in it, searching for who he knew was coming.

 

Yoongi could feel his presence first. Well actually, he could smell him, which wasn’t odd. You occasionally got the whiff of cold sweat, sticking to the rapper’s bodies from the whole night. Yoongi had never been a sweater, his brain ran too fast inside his head for his body to even concentrate on anything else besides the words that sped in his brain and his breathing. But J-Hope, he smelt like strawberries. ‘Who the f**k smells like strawberries?’ Yoongi thought to himself. He almost groaned out loud in irritation, _strawberries._  Of all the things, it has to be one of the nicest. Actually, all he was thinking about was J-Hope and strawberries when the beat kicked in.

 

_Oh sh*t._

 

Have you ever saw a grown man look utterly terrified? Pale faced, pained expression, slack jaw, frozen. This was Yoongi. J-Hope had started to rap, punching out fire and sizzling Yoongi alive where he stood. He even shot Yoongi a worried look which quickly went away when Yoongi sped into the game. It was like magic, the music taking over him and causing him to be brought back to life. Resurrected. He chanted the already mad crowd further into a frenzy, almost tormenting them into it. 

When it actually got down to it J-Hope and Yoongi were practically face to face, nose to nose, challenging the other one to keep going, eyes like sharpened daggers glistening in the sun. The crowd was ballistic, like wild animals. Back and forth chants of the opponents names respectively, drinks flying in the air, it was practically chaos. 

It wasn't until the beat had gave out when they both started to breathe normally again, still so close they could rest their heads together. Realistically they actually look like they might kill each other.  

The MC pounded onto the stage, ushering the crowd into a stunned silence. 

"Holy sh*t that was some fire," the MC shouted. "We really had a good fight out here tonight". Yoongi was still glaring at J-Hope while J-Hope was eating up the crowd with his cockiness. "But there's only one winner..." 

 

"J-HOPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEE". 

 

 

 

Actually it had taken Yoongi a couple of hours to realise he'd lost. Which was way after he collected his second place prize money, got told by countless people he "should of won man," and then got in a cab home and scrolled through twitter. Actually it hit him when he walked into his apartment, into the silence of the walls and the smell of day old take out. Normality. He'd actually f**king lost. 

Jungkook had came running from his room as soon as he heard the first smash of glass against hard wall. Yoongi wasn't even that angry after that, he just wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"I'm never going back." Yoongi demanded sharply, practically shouting it out even though it was past 2am. "You have to go back, you can't go back to working in that burger place," Jungkook hushed him, forcing him down onto the couch in their living room. "Man, you should of seen him," Yoongi said, pressing his face down into the balls of his fist, scrunching them into his eyes until fireworks appeared. "Hyung you don't let me watch you, if you did this might not of even happened and we wouldn't be one glass down," Jungkook remarked, gesturing over to the mound of glass beside their TV. "Huh, oh sorry about that," Yoongi winced, remembering what he'd done only moments earlier. "S'okay," Jungkook shrugged, "wanted to get rid of it anyway," he mumbled. "Really, I can't go back though Kook". 

"Why? If it's your reputation you're worried about like if you're embarrassed, like winning isn't everything," Jungkook began before he was cut off by Yoongi raising his hand to stop him, his head now down placed in his curled up knees. "It's him". "It's who?" "HIM." Yoongi's head snapped up, pouting slightly with sharp, angered brows. 

"I can't concentrate when he's in the f**king room," Yoongi muttered. "You hate him that bad?" Jungkook said, shock on his face. Sure, Yoongi could be a grade one asshole from time to time but it was just a defensive mechanism, not an actual personality trait. "Something like that," Yoongi said. Jungkook stood up at that. "Look hyung, we can fix this but we need to sleep on it first," Jungkook tried, his tired eyes pleading with his older roommate, who obliged silently, nodding to himself. 

"And hyung," Jungkook added as Yoongi stood up, placing his hand on his arm. "Clean up the f**king glass".

 

Agust D vs Yoongi's Social Media 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude i can't write these rap scenes rip ! get me to my safe place of fluff asap !!!!!!!!!!


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